


To The Wild

by wookieefucker



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: I want to apologize to everyone but it seems that I am now a furry, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 05:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5772724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wookieefucker/pseuds/wookieefucker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Picture something funny, sweet, and a little bit risque. Now make it about a furry. That's sort of like this fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To The Wild

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a polyamorous bisexual space furry and I'm beginning to fill a serious lack in this area of the Star Wars fandom.

Blasters fired repeatedly behind Han and Chewie as they ran pell-mell towards the cave where they had hidden the _Millennium Falcon_. Han laughed a little bit as he looked sideways at Chewbacca and the Wookiee huffed in equal parts amusement and exasperation as he turned and fired randomly behind them. The blaster fire slowed down, so he assumed that he had at least hit something.

When they made it back to the _Falcon_ they both headed for the cockpit and Han shook his head as he slid into the pilot’s seat.

“I can get us out of here and past orbit. Get to the guns and hold them off!”

“Of course, your highness,” Chewie shot back at him, before shaking his head in good humor and then quickly taking off down the corridor. His human companion had a tendency to bark orders when he was stressed, and it wasn’t that Chewie minded, but that he was free, and liked to remind himself of that more than anything.

As Han started up the engines Chewbacca fired the guns haphazardly at the group of beings chasing them, trying to get them to scatter. This was a planet with murder bounties, and they needed those like they needed a screen door on the _Falcon_. As they flew off and no ships began chasing them Chewie left the gunner pit and went back up to the main cockpit to sit in the co-pilot position.

“Do you know who they were working for?” he asked with a tilt of his head as he settled in and began laying in their next course. Han shook his head and ran a hand harshly through his already tousled hair. Chewie whined at him in warning. He had discovered recently that some humans went bald with old age, and he wanted to delay that however possible. Han laughed, and pulled his hand free, before sighing.

“Best bet is Jabba. He’s been after us since I had to let the spice slip.” He slammed his hand on the control console and swore, before exhaling loudly and slumping back into his seat.

“What’s done is done,” Chewie said consolingly. He set the autopilot and stood up, placing a large fur-backed hand on Han’s shoulder. “Come on, there’s no use worrying right now.” He pulled the smuggler to his feet and ruffled a hand gently through his hair before manhandling him out into the corridor. “Let’s go eat.”

“Yeah,” Han said, yawning. “Then sleep. Shit,” he said, stopping as realization dawned on him. “It’ll take weeks to get to Mos Eisley without that new hyperdrive conduit.” Chewie shrugged and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Han’s middle and resting his chin on top of his head.

“It will, but there isn’t anything that we can do about it. Let’s just eat,” and here Chewie stressed the word, growling it out slowly as his stomach growled too. Han laughed boyishly at him, and he rolled his eyes. “We can sleep after that,” Chewie continued. “The computer will wake us if something goes wrong.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay fur-face,” Han teased, shrugging the Wookiee off of him and heading towards the front corridor where they had left everything earlier, thinking that they would have more time to organize things when they were done loading the ship.

“Oh, come on,” the smuggler said to himself as he looked through the various packages and boxes that were stacked in the middle of the floor. “I know I left that dehydrated fucking nonsense those nice ladies gave us here somewhere,” he muttered as he bent over and dug through the nearest box. Chewbacca rolled his eyes and sniffed, leaning over Han to grab the dehydrated food portions from the top of the next crate.

“We should probably move all of this, huh?” Han asked, straightening up and kicking at the crate lightly. Chewie wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tugged him towards the lounge.

“Come on,” he said good-naturedly, “We can move all of this later, after we’ve rested. We had a long and busy stop this time. It was… eventful.” Han laughed as they began walking, squeezing down the narrow corridors side by side instead of separating to walk single file, with more room.

“Hey, speaking of eventful,” Han began, “did’ya have a chance to do anything ‘busy’ with those nice ladies?” He snickered, and Chewie huffed in amusement before shaking his head.

“Not all of us think with our dicks,” he said, and Han let out a loud guffaw as they came into the lounge area.

“What a load of it, you big perv,” he laughed, “’not all of us think with our dicks’! Ha! I’d believe that if you hadn’t spent the night before we arrived thinking with your dick so much that I didn’t even get any sleep!” The Wookiee shrugged and sat down on the couch, slouching down with his legs spread in front of him. Han climbed over them and settled in next to him. He set the tins of dehydrated food down and poured water over them, and leaned against Chewie to wait.

Soon the tins began sizzling as the chemicals in them reacted to the water, and when it was done it was at least food, even if it looked unappetizing and bland.

“We need to visit Kashyyyk again,” Chewie complained as he bit into whatever it was that they had been given to eat, after he had sniffed it thoroughly to check for poison. “Malla would cook for us and it would be so much better than this.”

“Oh just eat it,” Han sighed, nudging him with his elbow. “I don’t really like it either,” he sighed.

“She doesn’t even care that we lie together,” Chewie said enticingly, almost ignoring his human friend. “We could stop off at Kashyyyk before going to Tatooine. It really isn’t that much of a detour.”

“Oh why not,” Han said, after a long pause, leaning back against the Wookiee’s side. He promptly fell sideways to the seat of the couch as Chewbacca leapt up and almost ran to the cockpit to lay in the new course. Han chuckled, and turned to lay on his back. His eyes shut almost of their own accord, and before he knew it Chewie was leaning over him, slowly shaking him awake.

“Come on, foolish cub,” he chided, “Wake up long enough to get back to our bunk, or I will carry you over my shoulder like a sack of spice.”

“Hey, who’re you calling a cub?” Han asked indignantly, if a bit sleepily. Chewie snorted and Han closed his eyes again. When Chewie shook him again he pretended to snore loudly. Chewie laughed at Han’s sad attempt.

Han’s eyes flew open as he was hefted up and over Chewbacca’s shoulder, and with an ‘oomph’ he landed with a face-full of fur. “Hey!” he exclaimed, and the Wookiee huffed out a laugh and set off for their modified quarters.

There used to be two triple bunk rooms to either side of the head in the corridor that jutted off of the hall that lead to the cockpit. When they had taken over the ship they decided that it was unnecessary, and completely gutted one of the rooms and filled it instead with a large bed and rich furniture, which they of course bolted down. It had been a gift from a merchant on the outer rim.

Well, they had stolen it from him after he double crossed them.

“Quit squirming!” Chewie exclaimed, with a swat to the seat of Han’s pants when he wouldn’t settle down. “Do you want me to drop you on your head?”

“Hey, ouch!” Han cried out, although it honestly hadn’t hurt. He squirmed again, and said, “If your shoulder weren’t so hard I wouldn’t be moving around!” Chewie swatted him again, and Han sputtered in response.

“Seems like my shoulder isn’t the only thing that’s hard,” the Wookie noted casually, as if he were making a comment on the weather. He left his large hand on the seat of Han’s pants and the smuggler could have sworn that it was radiating warmth.

“Well I wouldn’t be if you weren’t feeling me up,” he retorted as Chewie stepped into their room and dumped him unceremoniously on the bed. Han landed on the bed with a grunt and Chewbacca huffed out a laugh, reaching down to tug his friend’s boot off.

“Less talking,” he growled, tilting his head to the side and tossing the boot behind him. It hit the wall with a thunk, and Han grinned wildly. Another thunk sounded throughout the ship, adding to the common noise of a freighter. They didn’t talk much after that.

Later, after they had _napped_ , and then actually slept for a while, Chewie woke up. He left Han sleeping and wandered out of the room to the front hold where they had left all of their cargo. For once, it was nothing illegal. Just some various supplies for the ship, and – Chewie stepped to the left and sniffed, digging through to the bottom of a crate to find an industrial sized jug of lube. Apparently not just supplies for the ship then. He shook his head and quietly barked out a laugh.

When Han finally stumbled out of the bedroom, shirtless and with his hair a wild mess, Chewie was sitting down and playing Dejarik against the computer. He went the long way around to the lounge, walking through the hold and seeing that everything had been put away already.

“You could have woken me up, you know,” Han said as he sat down next to the Wookiee and leaned against him. He yawned and closed his eyes, snuggling in to the warmth and softness that was his best friend’s side. Chewie lifted his arm and let the human move in closer, and smiled fondly.

“You looked so peaceful,” he replied, and Han snorted. “It wasn’t that much work.”

“Still,” Han replied, “Can’t have you doing all the work. I’d get lazy.”

“Lazier, you mean,” Chewbacca trilled, laughing at the indignant look that crossed Han’s features. He didn’t bother denying it, though. After a time, Chewie beat the computer and nudged his friend.

“What?” Han asked, with his eyes still closed where he was leaning into Chewie’s side. He stretched it out, though, so he sounded like a cub whining. Chewbacca told him that. “Whatever, fur ball.” When he didn’t respond, Han cracked an eye open and looked at him. Chewie was almost pouting, and Han rolled his eyes and sat up.

“Fine,” he began, “I’ll play one game with you. If I win you can’t threaten to pull my arms out of their sockets again.” When Chewie began to complain Han shook his head and held up a hand. “No, no. Listen. For one, I don’t believe you. You wouldn’t hurt me.” Chewie shrugged. Han rolled his eyes and continued, “For second, it’s a ridiculous threat.”

“Would you rather I threaten to tickle you?” Chewie looked at him mischievously as he reset the board.

“You wouldn’t fucking dare.”

“Just watch me.”

“Oh that’s it, fuzz face, you’re on.”

Later, when Han won, narrowly, Chewie chased him around the ship and tickled him, and they both laughed like children. They ended up sprawled on the floor of the main cargo hold, sides heaving with laughter. Eventually Han groaned and sat up, still shirtless and with hair askance, but now red in the face and breathless from laughter.

“We should probably go check on the ship’s heading,” he said, groaning as his body protested. “We’ve done a lot today,” he complained, stretching his back until it popped loudly, and then standing up. Chewie stood beside him and growled in agreement.

“Let’s check on the ship and then we can eat again,” he suggested, and Han grinned, running his fingers through his hair to comb it down.

“Always thinking with your stomach, huh?” The human asked, and Chewie grinned as they walked toward the cockpit.

“I thought I was always thinking with my dick,” Chewie replied sarcastically, and Han playfully punched him in the shoulder and settled into the pilot’s seat.                  

**Author's Note:**

> I want to apologize for this, except that I am not actually sorry. Consider it an apology for not being apologetic.


End file.
